One Breath
by Otaku Samurai
Summary: Yes, she was abusive. Yes, she could just about bring him to his knees with one punch. Yes, she could totally be evil, totally kill his dreams, his pleasures—but with one smile, one kiss, Anemone brought him back his world. //Dominic/Anemone//


**Oh jeez, oh jeez, oh jeez. This fic implies****...**_**things. **_**It implies…**_**romantic things**_**. And uses minor language to **_**imply**_** those **_**things**_**. Thus the 'romance' category and T rating. So if you're not of T age then beat it! This is killing my conscience, but yeah. This is probably as limey as I will get. **I don't own Eureka seven. **Bandai and Bones and other companies who can afford it do, not I, the Otaku Samurai! (If I did, I'd totally create a spin-off Dominic/Anemone series for all the lame sappy people like me.) **

* * *

One breath, two.

Her chest rose up softly, delicately, to the consistent pattern of her light, easy breathing.

Three, four, five, six.

She already knew _he_ was up, awake—but really, he should have _known_ by now that her perception was exponentially higher than that of the average person's; he should have _known_ that she already _knew_ that he awoke every morning at such ungodly hours, and that through his disciplined life in the military he was conditioned to rise at a precise time with _no_ exceptions.

Adding to that, she already _knew_ that he wouldn't be lying there next to her, with a limp arm around her waist every time she _was_ to wake up at those same _ungodly_ hours...

Seven, eight, nine.

_Idiot._

She opened her bright purple eyes to the shadow of dark room she slept in; looking up at the abyss of black ceiling, she sighed in a comfortable pleased satisfaction while she soaked in the soft waves of silk covers in which she laid so lethargically in. Stretching, smiling, yawning, and sighing, she raised her arms up, and her fair knuckles tapped the wooden head of their bed; she inhaled deeply, practically drowning in the thickly rich scent of his hair that still lingered on the pillow next to her.

The corners of her lips curled up in a catlike grin.

Besides a higher sense of perception, she had an amazingly high sense of smell—and his pillow, oh yes _just_ his pillow, brought some of the most animalistic senses out of her, and she loved it. Anemone wrinkled her nose, mentally concluding with smug snide and raised eyebrow that that last statement sounded partially raunchy (_animalistic senses, huh?_), but it was _true_—just one scent of him, his body, his hair, breath, or even clothes, set her heart afire with such ardent feelings, she couldn't even _describe_ it. It was so inexplicable. It was as if shocks of lightening staked through her body, down her spine and back up through her hair—even if she had wanted to explain it to anyone, she couldn't. It was unfathomable, these feelings.

So, in a sense, it wasn't raunchy. It was sweet, it was true, and it was _inexplicable_.

She blinked.

_Bleh, enough adjectives. They're boring_.

Rolling on her side and stealing another whiff of the scent lingering on his pillow, she felt the heavy form of Gulliver sleeping warmly at her feet, and then a sleeker, silkier fabric wash over her toes. What was it? Oh, yes—it was that silk night dress Dominic had bought her the day before. And after she had put it on, he had instantly—

Her mind instantaneously flashed back to their previous night, and her face flushed a deep crimson in the dark room. The blushing heat radiated off of her face as she modestly tucked herself deeper under her warm blanket. Anemone glanced away at nothing in particular, shyly pursing her lips with a small, blushing smile. Sheepishly, she sighed to herself in gratification, setting her heart at ease, breath by breath, beat by beat.

Despite all of the deep pride she had, she couldn't help but softly admit to herself in the most humble of ways that he _could_ be rather romantic at times. She had never felt anything so amazing until she had gained the sweet love of him—Dominic Sorel. And really...it surprised her how expertly his fingers, those wonderful hands, could graze her skin so softly, sending the most frostily hot shivers down her spine; and it surprised her the _most_ at how wonderful his lips felt as they pressed to hers in a passionate fury, and how he could always manage to keep their mouths intact as he would peel off anything that impeded him from touching her skin, so thorough, so warm, so...so damn wonderful!

Anemone's purple eyes widened slightly and she pursed her lips even tighter. Ah, it was almost embarrassing thinking of such things!—she could feel her forehead start to sweat, but she tucked herself in tighter, despite the warmth of the blankets and Gulliver's fur. She suddenly became self-conscious of what she was wearing—or, rather, what she _wasn't_.

Yes—the night before was surely one to remember.

Her ears pricked, and as she heard his light footsteps tap across their wooden floor, she quickly closed her eyes. No, she wouldn't let him catch her like that—blushing, embarrassed, sheepish of all things—never. Though, she hardly ever did wake up at such dark hours, so she might as well make the best of it—she was going to watch him, stalk his movements.

It was hard to go back to sleep right after you woke up, of course.

* * *

Dominic nimbly entered through the doorway.

He walked gingerly over to their windowsill, and glancing over to her to make sure that he wouldn't wake her with his movement (she feigned sleep in order to clandestinely observe him), he softly lifted up the glass in a steady motion. A cool breeze flew into the room, circulating new air, new peace, and new breath. She quickly opened her purple eyes as soon as she sensed that his back was turned against her. His carefree movement fixated her, hypnotized her.

Dominic gazed dreamily out into the imminence of the breaking morning dawn and sighed contentedly to himself. The light wind combed though his dark hair, releasing any built-up tension, and releasing any excess stress—however, he was sentimentally brought back to the feeling of _her_ fingers combing through his hair, and it pleased him exceptionally more with a tantalizing tenacity at the quick remembrance—he deeply inhaled a fresh breath. He smiled softly—there wasn't any need to complain.

The world was at peace, and things were was they should be. He had a great life in the aftermath of the Second Summer of Love—he had his love, of course—and he was living in his old house, in his old town, basically reverted back to his old life.

Anemone was just the exception.

They lived in a small house which resided in his hometown—a place he would describe that was just the size and type as Bellforest, except not as popular, and not as famous (for obvious reasons). It was more of a sideline town; though, Dominic always liked things that way—always behind the scenes, never fully at the top and never fully in the lead. Anemone always called him extremely passive for this, but this was also a reason why he always felt that he wasn't fit for the military. Maybe that was why he was always more of a field agent than that of an officer on the frontlines.

Dominic breathed in easily, gazing out of the open window.

But that was before.

The breeze, that place, his love—it was now.

He chuckled her name softly to no one in particular, and Anemone's ears pricked as her purple eyes shined brightly with the falling moon of the rising dawn. She scowled lightly, and raised her eyebrow curiously as he said her name again.

"Anemone."

Nostalgia coursed through his veins. During his life of "field work" was where he met _her_, so with just that—his life—he was utterly content.

Running a hand through his dark hair as he marveled at the peace that surrounded him, he sighed softly to himself, but immediately grinned in its wake. Suddenly, almost compulsively, he laughed aloud at his past, and even his present, circumstances.

Yes, she was abusive. Yes, she could just about bring him to his knees with one punch. Yes, she could totally be evil, totally kill his dreams, his pleasures—but with one smile, one kiss, Anemone brought him back his world.

Suddenly cutting off his thoughts, her voice sliced cleanly through the silence of the early morning, and Dominic whipped around in surprise.

"Why did you say my name? And why were you laughing as you did?"

She was sitting up, awake, and eyeing him suspiciously. She was holding their blankets up to her neck, covering herself in her early modesty—Anemone's eccentrically pink hair cascaded down her bare shoulders and his gray eyes grazed over her exposed skin. Almost nervously, he gulped.

"Did I wake you? I'm sorry—"

She sighed in annoyance.

"Dominic, why is it when I always ask you a simple question, you always answer back _with_ a question?" She frowned, glaring at him skeptically, "It's _really_ annoying."

"I-I, uh, well—"

"Ugh, it's the same when you stutter." She pursed her lips in quick thought, "But, since you're sort of cute when you do it, I'll give you _that_ much."

He blushed, yet grinned shyly to her. And, seeing that one expression upon his face, Anemone's eyes lit up, and a small smile returned onto her own lips.

She wouldn't deny him _that_—Dominic was way, way, _way_ cuter than Eureka's boyfriend. And _that_ was for sure. Anemone remembered telling Eureka and Renton both when she piloted theEND how she wished she couldn't feel her new emotions; how she wished she had never discovered them in the first place and how she'd rather _die_ than feel them ever again. It was amazing—she was so desensitized. Anemone felt tears, she felt helpless—yet Dominic reappeared even after all of the abuse she put him though, and, no matter how many times he would blush and say otherwise, he really _did_ save her. He saved her more than he would ever _know_.

Not that she'd ever tell him that, anyway.

She raised a pink eyebrow at him—he was standing there (rather stupidly, she might add) in front of the open window, with nothing on but a pair of navy dark-blue boxers. _Mmmm, sexy_, she thought, but no, she'd never tell him that either. His breathing was light, and his gray eyes pierced her skin as he smiled modestly—oh so idiotically. His bare chest rose with each rising breath. It was so thorough, so real—she could almost feel that one breath caressing her skin. Anemone did admire his physique—he wasn't bulky, nor beefy, nor skinny or too slim. He was just so right, so perfect.

She scrunched her pink eyebrows together.

As if she'd tell him _that_, of all things.

Her purple eyes grazed his half-naked body almost hungrily.

Hmm, no—maybe she _would_ tell him. But, in some ways she _showed_ him more than she could ever say...

She pondered a small idea—that is, until he broke the silence.

"I laughed because, well..." How would he say this without her calling him an idiot? It was practically in vain, but he attempted it. "...because you're quite amazing."

She glanced at his gray eyes cynically, rolled her own purple ones, and then continued staring at him.

"Stupid."

Well, it wasn't "idiot", and Dominic grinned—his white teeth shined with the late moon. It wasn't much of an insult anymore—her "stupids" or "idiots"—but it was almost a necessity. He didn't mind it, nor did her words cut through his heart like they used to, back before _everything_.

It was almost her personal form of 'I love you'; besides, that was just how she was—her personality he would call it—and he loved her greatly for it. She had so much audacity; she was so gregarious and ostentatious, he couldn't help but be fond of her and all of her little quirks—nor could he really help but be so submissive.

"And the reason why I always end up answering you with a question is because...well, you're very _daunting_." He looked and sounded lighthearted, so she didn't take any offense—nor did she pretend to take offense. Though—maybe she could play with him a little.

"And Dominic, you're very _passive_."

Her voice held that trademark smug vitality that he loved, and he chuckled.

"I guess I am."

A gust of breeze hit his bare back, and he lost himself in the moment. Turning slightly back to his side, he looked through the open window of their room. An orange-yellow shade filtered upon the horizon—upon and atop the grass and trees of their surroundings. The sun was breaking the dark sky, ready for the light morning and a new day.

Dominic sighed dreamily lastly and once more, then walked slowly forward to close the window. The flow of cold air vacuumed out the circulation, and for a quick second, he almost missed it with a nostalgic tenacity. The air was so fresh, it consumed him with only one breath, but he would leave, _sacrifice_ the air, just to steal a moment with her.

Dominic raised his eyebrow inwardly—was he really that sappy? No wonder she always called him _stupid_. Well, for whatever reason, it was true—for that, he inwardly shrugged. It was love, and he had no reason whatsoever for complaints.

He fluidly pivoted around to face her, but as he glanced and quickly scanned their disheveled sleeping arrangements, all he could see was the lumpy form of Gulliver at the foot of the bed. Skewed and confused, it threw him off.

"Anemone?"

He tilted to the side, and as he turned, he instantly came face-to-face with her. They were only centimeters apart, and both pairs of eyes locked with an unspeakable magnetic attraction.

He could even feel her warm breath on his bare skin.

"Oh!—"

His heart was only one beat away from panic.

"—Freak out, Dominic."

He immediately blushed as his gray eyes glanced down at her face, then her body—Anemone was wrapped in one of their blankets; his heart skipped multiple needy palpitations as he traced the lines of her fine face. Her pink hair was messy and tangled, and the dull yellow hair-clips she always wore were off, leaving little tendrils of pink bangs freely in her face.

Dominic could feel his heart rate accelerate.

"Uhm—"

A gulp.

"—What?"

"Eh—"

A blink.

"—_What?_ Ugh! You're so annoying sometimes, just spit it out!"

Finally, a crooked smile.

"Hello there."

She rolled her eyes, and he chuckled softly. He felt the sudden urge to play with some of the loose strands of hair hanging down the sides of her face, but he kept his hands to himself, much to his dismay—as well, much to _her_ dismay.

"You're such a dork, Dominic. And you act as if I'm going to do something _bad_ to you."

His smile instantly vanished, and his blush was painted upon his cheeks once more. Dominic pursed his lips, almost in embarrassment, and she quickly noticed it. It was...curious. It was...interesting. It was...cute. And she wanted to know why. Though, subconsciously, she did know why. She could almost parallel the same thoughts that ran through his mind, but, she decided to press the matter—it was fun messing with him, after all.

"What's the matter?" She raised a pink eyebrow, speaking slowly, "You look like you have something to say, or, to say the least, like you're trying to _hide_ what you're trying to say. See, and you're so intent on keeping it in that you're holding your breath. Stupid."

"N-No, I'm not trying to keep anything in—"

"—Then why are you stuttering?"

"I'm n-not—"

"—Have you _heard_ yourself lately?"

Suddenly, a quick thought filtered into her conscience, and she grinned.

Dominic gulped.

Anemone only needed one step—she placed a hand on his bare chest, and she looked up into his enthralling gray eyes. She could feel his hefty heartbeat on her fingers through his skin, and soon, her own heart started to match the pace of his. Adrenaline, passion, fire. His scent flooded into her nostrils, and she inhaled—one breath was all it took to get her body to shiver, to throw her into the pool of lightening and fire and hail and snow of their love and never want her to return back to the peaceful world as she knew it. Anemone was where she wanted to be, with him, forever—hell, and she was _going_ to stay there forever because she loved him so damn much.

Not that she'd tell him, of course.

"What, Dominic? You're acting as if I _bite_ when I'm near." He could feel the outline of her lips on his collar bones, on his jaw. She smiled smugly. "Well...not that much, anyway."

As he gulped, he could feel the soft flesh of her lips press on his neck, and his heart skipped a beat. So was she teasing him? Yes, because that was just how she was, and he _loved_ her for that. He loved her teasing, he loved her abuse, he loved her love. With a content sigh, he softly wrapped his bare arms around her, smiling as she conformed into him while she tucked her head in the crook of his neck. It was amazing—in essence, in appearance, she seemed so slim and fragile, but in reality she was so strong and sturdy.

It made him happy enough just to hold her.

Both of Anemone's hands were pressed up against Dominic's chest now, and the sliver of blanket that wrapped around her slipped off of her shoulder, revealing her burning skin. With a rush of adrenaline, he tenderly dipped his head and kissed her bare flesh, and she tried to supress a gasp. As she closed her purple eyes, he grinned while she shivered from his touch. Softly, he kissed butterfly kisses up her throat, feeling her warm pulse dance on his lips, until he arrived at her jaw line. There, he stopped—what he heard was music to his ears.

"_D-Dominic_..."

He didn't think it was intentional.

"Anemone," he whispered, "is there something you want to say?"

His words left a trail on her skin, but this time it was her turn to chuckle; she kept her eyes closed.

"Of course not, why would you think that? Is there something you _want_ me to say?" Satisfied, she grinned, but her voice was husky and forced. "_Idiot_."

He smiled.

"No," he breathed, "that's all I wanted to know."

Finally, he pressed his lips to hers. Quickly wrapping her arms around his neck, he dipped lower, all the while firmly placing his hands on her waist, forcing her closer into his body. She sighed as the blanket covering her other shoulder slipped down further, and her back was briskly revealed to the morning air—her breasts pressed against his bare chest, and Anemone's hands traveled down the smooth muscle of his torso and around to his back, absorbing his warmth through her fingertips.

Dominic's lips never left her.

Loosening his grip on her enough to move, he expertly walked them both back and blindly fell onto the bed. In a flurry, the blanket she was covered in was fully removed, and Dominic was on top of her, kissing her, stroking her skin—Anemone's fingers combed through his dark hair, and she lost herself in the ardor of their passion as his hands caressed her body. She almost wished the window was back open—the heat of their love was _more_ than enough to keep them warm. She wished that there was nothing blocking them from continuing—she wanted him, she needed him. He must have read her mind.

Pausing, he looked down into her eyes. Love was wholly reflected and continuous through both purple and gray, and it swelled both their hearts with a never-ending zeal.

"I want to love you."

She smiled. Anemone could feel tears begin to dam up in her eyes at the memory of their scenario from so long ago, and he tenderly stroked her cheek with a thumb. She felt like she was falling.

"What?—I can't hear you."

He didn't blush, he didn't stutter—he looked her straight in the eye, his passion for her burning in his pupils.

"I love you, Anemone—"

She cut his words with a kiss, and quickly, for only one moment, she pulled away. Anemone looked up at him through her long eyelashes, through her bright purple eyes.

"Dominic, I love you, you idiot."

He dipped down to capture her in a kiss, and she held him close.

With that one breath, there was nothing else that needed to be said.

* * *

**Oh snap. Well, I guess it wasn't too bad. Or, I dunno. I am just a one-opinion at the moment. Though in retrospect, it wasn't that horrible. **Please review! Would be greatly appreciated!** Tell me if it sucked, was OoC, had grammatical errors and/or typos, or _sucked_. I found it kind of skimpy, but whatever. (The **Eureka seveN** crowd is few these days, haha. But I gotta stay true to my pairings!) Thanks for reading, you're all awesome :D**


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